Oddly Sincerely
by Mandolina Lightrobber
Summary: He shouldn't dare. What exactly - she doesn't elaborate. Luka/Touko.


**A/N:** Written for a _500themes_ fiction writing community over at LiveJournal for the prompt _133 - Don't you dare_.

**Warning:** not worksafe.

**Disclaimer:** Hotaru Odagiri and all associated companies are the rightful owners. This work is in no way associated with them, no copyright infringement is intended with this, and no profit is being made from this.

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**Oddly Sincerely**

"Don't you dare," she says and Luka doesn't ask what it is that he mustn't dare.

To remark, maybe, on the tears that are currently streaming down her face because people are getting hurt and she can't do anything but sit and wait for them to get better, or get hurt again – whichever came first. Or maybe he oughtn't comment on the fact that she's not the strong woman she pretends to be, even when all pretence is slipping and the mask of happiness hasn't just cracked – it has gaping holes all over it, to the point where it seems that the holes are the ones keeping it all together. Maybe he shouldn't notice the way she is shaking in his arms: arms this time, instead of his back like those few times before. He doesn't know, and doesn't care to find out. His arms close around her, keeping her grounded and aware of _someone_ next to her, of someone who won't think less of her when she breaks, all ugly shards and raw edges.

Touko doesn't know how – or when – her face has left the comfortingly coarse fabric of Luka's vest and lifted up so that he could see it in all of its wet disgrace. So that he could see it and hate her weakness, her inability to stay strong and unswayed; so that he could judge all of her shortcomings. He doesn't.

His lips are soft on hers; just a light touch. It doesn't demand anything and it doesn't promise anything, and she's not too sure if she's okay with the latter. Her hands fist in Luka's vest and she reaches up, up, up. Touko wants more, desires more, and he can give it to her. And for a brief moment Luka wonders if this is also one of those things which he shouldn't dare – thinking that she's only doing this out of desperation and denying her because she wouldn't seek him out otherwise, wouldn't even consider him otherwise because he's Yuki's: soul, fate, and centuries worth of rebirth. But because he is a Duras and he doesn't care if she's weak or strong, or broken, she can regard him as a stronghold to seek out in times of inner turmoil. Presently, Luka changes, responds, and she changes with him, tears still quietly rolling down her cheeks.

Touko's fingers unclench, her hands slide up his chest and wrap around his neck. Her body is stretched out against his, pressed close, and she is already standing on her toes. Luka lifts her easily, moves, and lands them both on a park bench somewhere out of sight because she deserves this courtesy, this privacy. No one else needs to know how weak and lost she can be; they are allowed only to guess at it.

They're on more even grounds now, sitting side by side on the bench, even though this new position means they have to strain their bodies in a slightly different way. But Touko's mouth is searching, searching, and for the time being they are willing to ignore the fact that Luka's legs are too long and get in the way uncomfortably when they shouldn't be, shouldn't… Dissatisfied, Touko shifts and changes her position. Before Luka could object or encourage her, she has already slipped into his lap, straddling him in a way that feels all too natural for her. Her hands tangle in his hair, her tongue pries its way into his mouth and keeps searching, searching. She cuts her tongue on Luka's fangs, the taste of blood in his mouth and then in hers as well when she draws it back, feeling the sting of pain. But her tongue returns again and Luka groans, loosening his grip on her to let his hands roam over her body. She moans softly once and writhes in his lap a little. He wants her as much now as she wants this; may it be despair, desire – anything.

Touko's hands are already undoing the zipper on his vest and pushing the fabric aside to trace his chest and his abdomen; he's all muscle underneath, radiating strength, and it captivates her. She's still kissing him, trying to find a good balance atop him and the bench. Luka hikes up her skirt and strokes her thighs slowly, growling sounds of encouragement through their fervent kiss, and she responds with helpless moans. They need another position change and it's fortunate that this bench doesn't have a headboard. So Luka shifts, lifting one his leg over the bench, taking Touko's leg with it and she almost falls off him, but he is holding her fast and she only slides down his body a little. Luka lies down on his back and Touko remains on top of him, struggling to acquire some sort of leverage. Once Luka is sure she won't fall off, his hands return to her thighs to stroke and rub, and Touko presses close to his chest, lifting her hips a little so that her hands can find the front of his trousers and undo them. She doesn't want to prolong this, she doesn't want it slow and gentle. She hasn't come to play a lover's game. She's here to regain herself, to get shaken back to life, to be freed from her weakness. Luka knows this; knows this even before she has said anything to the effect.

Touko leads. She manoeuvres herself on top of him and moves in a quick pace, and he only has to guide her and keep her balanced. Her face is hidden against his shoulder, her breath coming out in quick, hot gasps, and her hands remain fisted in his vest. She drives herself home and keeps moving until she's sure that he has come as well. For a moment they remain still atop the bench, and then they're already standing up, adjusting their clothes, and parting ways. Luka is still Yuki's, and she still has Tsukumo, and yes, Yuki too, in a way. She feels stronger now; enough to last though for a while, enough to withstand seeing her friends become hurt again. She has rediscovered confidence. She has found solace in the arms of someone who doesn't care what she is like, who doesn't need her to be strong at all; someone who, by all rights, ought to be her enemy, but isn't. And even though Yuki is the one with the ability to heal, Luka is the only one who can fix her the right way. And it's neither cheating, nor betrayal, because Yuki needs her strong and this Duras is the only one who can make her that way.


End file.
